


Dust is Part of the Process

by ALC_Punk



Category: Law & Order: Criminal Intent
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-12
Updated: 2007-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-27 00:50:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALC_Punk/pseuds/ALC_Punk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barek is an unexpected guest at a funeral. Character study</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dust is Part of the Process

**Author's Note:**

> I blame this on A.j., who was rambling at me about CI fic, and who also wrote really awesome Barek fic. Which I stole ideas/bits from. And possibly her Barek.

She still thinks of him as her captain, so when he looks up and sees her coming into the lobby, she straightens. Carolyn isn't really tall enough for it to do any good, but the effort is there. "Captain."

A look of surprise crosses his face, but he half-smiles, "I haven't heard that for two years."

"Retirement looks good on you," she tells him. It's not a lie. There's a relaxation that he never had when striding around the squad room, or calling his people in on the carpet. She remembers getting called in far more times than she thought she would.

"Thanks, Barek." 

She doesn't ask him if they asked him to speak. More people come through the door, the stark dark blues and bright shiny silver giving the same dichotomy as a good man going down for the lies of a criminal.

Carolyn shoves the thought away, knowing it's the past. This is the present. 

It's not as happy as it could be, and the dark circles under the eyes of Alex Eames are testament to that. She doesn't smile when she meets Carolyn's eyes, but she does nod. Feretti, Clayton, Debret, Scarloni--most of the men and women of the squad room are there, filling the small room until it's almost stifling. 

Too much brass, Carolyn thinks.

Impossibly, the room expands to admit Robert Goren, and he's almost as tired-looking as Eames. In his wake is a man with dark curly hair that Barek only recognizes because she's seen his picture in the papers. Deakins almost sucks in a breath, as if it hurts. But it's been two years, and seeing the man who replaced him isn't as painful as it once might have been. Besides, he likes gardening and seeing his grandchildren when the sun's out and there aren't murderers haunting his days.

A tall, slim girl follows Goren, and the thought his Barek that the gang was all there. Wheeler wasn't someone she knew, either, but she recognized the woman who had been her replacement, if only because of her age.

There was an uncertainty to her, and her eyes had more hollows than Eames and Goren combined. 

Carolyn has the feeling that if she'd let herself... well, if she'd let herself react like he'd still been her partner, she might look like Wheeler. She takes a step towards her, uncertain what she'll say, but knowing she has to say something--everyone is avoiding the younger woman, as though this loss is _her_ fault and not simply chance being a cruel mistress.

"If we're all here?" The new captain's voice sounds wrong, taking charge. He's not uncertain as he steps back, motioning them all into the other room. Away from the foyer and the last chance there is to run for cover. 

Hanging back, Carolyn finds herself in company with Eames and Goren, while Deakins pauses halfway into the sanctuary to look back at them. 

"I don't--" Goren starts.

Eames stops him, hand on his arm as she holds out her free hand to Carolyn. "FBI treatin' you good?"

Like this is normal. Like they meet every couple days for lunch and gossip. Carolyn wants to crack a laugh, but it would inappropriate, here and now. She takes Eames' hand and pulls at her. They're nearly the same height, and it's easy to hug the other woman. To pretend for a moment that there is lunch and gossip, that Alex Eames talks about her nephew and how fast he's growing and Carolyn Barek tells her about the tomato plants in her back garden. 

A larger set of arms wraps around both of them, and it feels weird and yet not. Tomorrow, Carolyn knows she will laugh her ass off because Bobby Goren hugged her. But right now, it's comforting. He's large and capable, and sometimes, you didn't notice how delicately he could move. But pulled lightly against his chest, she has the fleeting thought that he could crush them and not notice.

Then it's over and done, they're moving away from each other. Not quite awkward yet, but not quite comfortable with their shared moment of grief.

Carolyn looks up as she wipes her eyes, and finds Wheeler watching them, her face full of pain. "Kid..." she moves, instinct prompting her. The taller woman folds against her, shaking as the hot tears spill over and against Barek's neck. 

This is familiar. This is holding her little brother after he's stubbed his toe, or dropped his favorite truck down the toilet (her mother refused to call the plumber for a piece of plastic, so Carolyn tried to get it herself. The resulting mess did require a plumber). It's catharsis, and they haven't even heard a sermon, yet.

A laugh tries to bubble out of her, but she throttles it down. It's not appropriate. The young woman shaking in her arms, is.

"When you're ready," says a soft, almost comforting voice.

And Wheeler stiffens, straightening almost before her sniffles have stopped. Carolyn lets her go, recognizing the urge to put on a good face, the urge to pretend for the world that everything's ok. "Sir."

To Wheeler, he's sir, and captain.

He almost looks kind. "Megan--"

"No," quick movements, and Wheeler's eyes are dry, her hands and fingers spattered with dampness. "No, I'm good. Sir."

"We'll be right in," Carolyn says. She doesn't know this man, she doesn't really know Wheeler. But she knows human nature. Two seconds and fingers aren't enough to pull yourself back together. 

Eames taps his shoulder, "Sir." 

He follows her and Goren, none of them looking back.

The lobby is empty of all but the two women, and Deakins. He stands at the inner door, his eyes kind while Carolyn uses her handkerchief on Megan Wheeler's face, and says, "He'd be proud of you."

It's like an electric shock. Wheeler closes her eyes and opens them again, her emotions buried. "I... he was a good partner."

Yeah. Yeah, he was. Carolyn smiles slightly, and turns the younger woman. "Let's go tell them that."

Deakins closes the door behind them all, and the force chaplain moves to stand behind the podium. "Thank you for coming. This ceremony is to dedicate a life spent in service. Detective Michael Logan..."


End file.
